A little bit of history repeating itself
I've only just managed to d/l this, and I've had no time at all to sit and think. I'll probably change my mind completely by tomorrow morning. Forgive, as ever, the wanky tone and the fact that I seem to have inaugurated myself as personal shrink to all at W&H.
Well, hello father issues. Have we met? Only in just about every other episode ever, I'm thinking. ;) Here's a little bit of prophecy for you:
The father will kill the son
Except, we know that Wes will do anything to prevent that happening. We've seen that before. The father will not kill the son, not this time, because the son might just get in first.
Back to Wes in a minute, but you have to read ascian3's gorgeous analysis here.
So, I'll start with the periphery, the frivolous, and the bit-players. I loved this episode. I suspect a lot of the reason I loved it was because it was much more what I was expecting from this season, back in the days of speculation - way back here, for instance - and it's always nice to have expectations fulfilled.
This episode brings up all sorts of interesting theories about the mindwipe. I'm going to go out on a limb here. I'll hypothesise that the mindwipe is exclusively about Connor. Except not, because so much of the last two seasons revolved around Connor. But I don't find it hard to believe that they all remember everything else. They just have a good reason to bury it. I've said this before; it's not about moving on, it's about getting on.
I liked wisteria_'s point here, that actually, mind-wiping Connor would have been enough. So why Angel decided it had to be all of them, and what exactly they do all have stored in their memories, becomes ever more intriguing.
Most people have said they see no sign of Fred and Gunn behaving like ex-lovers. Last week, in the one scene they had together, that was exactly what I saw. There was a lovely sense of tenderness, of fondness, of a shared something, but it was completely safe. And it's a safe-ness that could well come from a relationship that is concluded, and concluded comfortably. I almost included in last week's thoughts "we see the first chemistry between Fred and Gunn in their entire history," but as you know I am never flippant. Hee! ;)
Wesley's comment about Lilah, of course, can be interpreted two ways. Either he does remember his history with her - and I'm inclined to think he does, but some Connor-free version of it, however that might work - or it's just extraordinary irony, a flippant remark he makes, the significance of which is lost on him but devastatingly clear to us.
Getting back to Gunn, I warmed to GrownUp!Gunn this week. He had something of his old energy. And he was really hot, which helped muchly with the warming. ;)
I loved Spike this week. I loved Spike being utterly un-Spike-like in his report to Angel; that sense of him trying so hard to find a way to fit, to make a difference. Spike, so used to having Buffy monitor his every action - this, for instance, in Never Leave Me - "You’re alive because I saw you change. Because I saw your penance" - is desperately seeking acknowledgment. He doesn't need approval, necessarily, but he does need someone to stand there and say, "yeah, I saw you do that." Because for years Buffy was there doing exactly that - whether it was slamming him up against the wall of his crypt for some misdemeanour, or encouraging him with her belief in him and her acknowledgement of the good he'd done, or telling him he was underperforming (no! not that) and he needed to get his act together. So it's no wonder he notices Eve noticing him.
What else did I love about Spike? I loved the affection in his cry of "Gunn!" Also, did I mention that Denisof and Marsters are extraordinary together? They click - a little bit like JM and SMG, they know exactly how to feed off one another.
And I loved Spike fighting, and Spike in the elevator. Because there's the Spike we know and love - Spike punching through his friends to hit his enemies, and seeing through his enemies to hit his friends.
Which brings us to Eve. I admit, I like Eve. She has a quality to her that I think adds something to the ensemble, and throws a very interesting light on events so far. She seems so girlish, so half-hearted, almost, that it's just about impossible to believe she has a thread of steel running through her, let alone that she'd be the chosen representative of the core of evil behind this law firm. You know what? Maybe that's a clue. Maybe she'll turn out to be the fairy godmother after all.
Also, I like Angel and Eve together. It's a funny, forced relationship - two people that have no real interest in opening up to each other emotionally, and yet by virtue of their business relationship share a level of honesty that's all theirs. I'm a slut where Angel's concerned. I'll ship him with just about anybody that isn't Buffy - I liked Angel and Kate, loved Angel and Cordy, and as for Angel and Faith, or, hee, Angelus and Faith...sorry, where was I?
OK, I adored Angel having a go at Wesley. Oh, I love him when he's being the boss. So you all thought he was a little out of line, pushing the chauvinist thing a bit too much? Hee, not me. I watched, and wibbled at his manly anger. In my TV world there are no great feminist issues. I prefer to indulge conscience-free. On the whole.
And bless him, wisteria_ was so right here, he does nothing for himself sitting thus on the couch, nor, if it comes to it, sprawling on the roof. But I love him for exposing himself to these unflattering shots. The guy has balls. Well, that was obvious from the couch shot, but still, you know what I mean. Hee! Me, resist a cheap shot? Not in this life, my friends.
Something else I got that I've been looking out for all season was a little bit of Angel and Fred. Don't get me wrong, I'm not off on some delusional ship quest here. But I think, in a sense, Fred can fill a little part of the gaping hole Cordelia left. Angel needs someone he can care for, someone he can feel responsible for - but not in the all-consuming way he did for Connor. The way Angel talked about Fred in admonishing Wesley reminded me a lot of the "nobody touches Cordelia" attitude that he always had, way back, long before he fell in love with her. I think Fred recognises, too, the importance of what she can do for Angel. And it's Angel she rushes to up there on the roof, not Wes, not Wes who's standing there pointing a gun at his own father.
Which brings me back to where I started.
I never got Wes and Fred before. I do now. Oh, I do now.
It's not pretty, and you know what? It's not real. If you'll forgive a brief foray into my obsession with classic children's literature, I'm reminded of a chapter in Jo's Boy's, fourth book to Little Women. The chapter is called Aslauga's Knight, and is all about the sin-stained Dan, and his obsession with the lovely, virtuous Bess. And the whole point is that he doesn't want her, not as a real woman he can have a real relationship with, but as something perfect, and good, and beautiful he can focus on, something that lifts him beyond himself.
onetwomany has it exactly, here:
There's an innocence and vulnerability in Fred that Wes seems drawn to, even obsessed with. If he can be with her, protect her, win her love, then maybe he can preserve a part of himself that he fears he's losing (or has lost). Wes is looking to Fred to save him.
And saving Fred, for Wes, is not about Fred at all, but about himself. If only he could see that.
I love the double-edged Wes/Angel conversation at the end - "you know what’s the worst part about losing your free will?" "Having no control over your body?" "Well, there’s that, and I’m getting really nauseous."
It's kind of significant, given that Wesley's just thrown up over the edge of the roof after losing control of his body. Oh, that's what he'd like to believe.
Actually, it's a numbers game. He'll put his own life on the line while there's a chance of saving them both, of saving Angel and his father, but when Fred comes into the equation it doesn't add up any more - he can't save everyone, so it's a case of the three lives or the one. It's an easier decision than he'll ever let himself believe afterwards. Because that's Wes: even in desperation, there's a rational side to him, though he doesn't care to see it. Really, is it a crime of passion or a crime of necessity? Of necessity, Wes, though you'll try to call it passion. Because you're always the watcher, Wesley, always the father's son, and hell, the father is killing the son. Because somewhere inside the son feels himself becoming the father, and he doesn't want that, he wants to be something more, something better. Doesn't he say as much, up there on the roof?
Love isn't an excuse for doing crazy things, Wesley, don't you see that? Don't take this fixation with Fred, with what she represents, and call it love, and use it justify what you do, what you are.
Wes is such a bundle of contradictions. He has this crazy thing for Fred and calls it love, because love makes us crazy, right? And love is good, isn't it, so that's OK? He loved Lilah, and he called that a crazy thing. It came from somewhere dark, from something wrong. He was saved by something that was never pure, never innocent. And he needs it to be good, needs it to be good because it mattered to him, and he wants everything that matters to him to be good. But he won't let himself see that, ultimately, it was. Because he needs it to be good by virtue of something he does.
This is where the Wes/Lilah dynamic was extraordinary. Wesley has this overwhelming need to protect, to be the man. Fred won't stand for it. Little Fred, who'll go giggly and girly over her lab assistant, doesn't want him to protect her. But Lilah, strong, powerful Lilah, who watched her own back and only hers, Lilah let him. It's exactly because she was strong, because she had faith in herself, that she could let him. And so when the Beast comes to ravage W&H she'll let him play knight to her damsel in distress, because she understands. Understands him, understands her, knows what he needs from her and what she needs from him.
She lets him try to save her, and he can't. Not in the end. Not when he thinks he's finally set her free, burning up her contract in Home, only to discover it goes on forever.
So he has to put it right. Has to play it all over again. But this time he'll get it right, find something better, something purer, something worthier of saving.
Oh Wesley. Aslauga's knight should know better by now.
Do you know what breaks my heart, up there on the roof? Wesley doesn't question his father's sanity. Oh, he asks him why he's doing it, tries to talk him out of it, questions why he didn't turn to him instead. But there's not a moment where he wonders if his father is out of his mind. The bottom line is he believes his father to be capable of doing what he's doing. Maybe he wants to believe that, wants to feel something for his father that is real, and tangible, and potent. Wants his father to hate him because hate is nearer to love than anything he's known from his father.
Oh Wes. You're very pretty. You're also very deluded. Your issues aren't with your father. They're with you. And you don't want Fred, either. You want you. Because here's the thing - Angel fights for a cause. He fights for good because he can, and because he can, he believes he has to. Spike fights for fighting's sake, a lot of the time, and because he's attached to certain individuals and the world they live in. Wesley fights for a future self. And it's a notion, I think, that's bigger than the Shanshu prophecy, the promise of reward, of being human. He needs to be better. He doesn't have an ultimate aim, but he's driven, always, by this need to fashion himself into something more, something bigger, something that overwhelms all the darkness within him. And he hangs on to Fred, because in his mind she is his guiding light.
Because really, who is it Wesley shoots up there on the roof top? His father? No. Himself. He shoots, shoots and obliterates, the thing he is terrified of becoming.
He sees himself standing there, threatening to destroy the one good, beautiful thing he has to believe in. It's exactly what he saw Angel doing to Connor, for all he doesn't remember it. It's exactly what happened with Lilah. He allowed himself to love her, and he had to destroy her. It's exactly what he fears happening with Fred.
No wonder he lets her go at the end.
I know what I saw in the ending, because I've seen it before. This is Supersymmetry:
GUNN
If you kill him, I'm gonna lose you.
Gunn and Wesley both had Fred on a pedestal. They needed to believe she was good, she was infallible. Gunn couldn't let Fred do the one thing he knew would stop him believing in her, and so he did the one thing that stopped her believing in him. And Wesley does exactly the same, and he knows it.
Fred tries so hard to justify it, to hang on to a Wesley she believed in - "part of you knew" - but he knows he can't let her.
Poor Wes. It's the same old story as it was for Gunn, and as it was with him and Angel and Connor - he sacrifices what he believes to be his own father to keep from losing Fred. And in that, he loses her. Because who could be with a man who would kill his own father?
Wesley never can be with Fred, because he's afraid of corrupting this perfect ideal, afraid that he'll damn her rather than save her. And it suits him, I think, to give up his own interests for the sake of others. He's done it often enough. The question is, does he remember that?
Do they remember? Or do they stand by watching while their history re-plays itself, over and over, oblivious to the lessons they could have learnt from the past?
I can't wait to find out.
On an entirely different note, I'm so excited by this phone posting. Even if it’s confined only to my US friends - is it? Y'all have such lovely, elegant voices.
redrover1980's promise of a song has me envisioning all sorts of wonderful and quite ridiculous things. We'could have like, LJ Pop Idol, with everybody having to contribute a verse from a song of their choice. Or we could have weekly themes, like, big band week. And we could all vote by LJ poll!
Ehem. I'll be over here in the corner, then.
Well, hello father issues. Have we met? Only in just about every other episode ever, I'm thinking. ;) Here's a little bit of prophecy for you:
The father will kill the son
Except, we know that Wes will do anything to prevent that happening. We've seen that before. The father will not kill the son, not this time, because the son might just get in first.
Back to Wes in a minute, but you have to read ascian3's gorgeous analysis here.
So, I'll start with the periphery, the frivolous, and the bit-players. I loved this episode. I suspect a lot of the reason I loved it was because it was much more what I was expecting from this season, back in the days of speculation - way back here, for instance - and it's always nice to have expectations fulfilled.
This episode brings up all sorts of interesting theories about the mindwipe. I'm going to go out on a limb here. I'll hypothesise that the mindwipe is exclusively about Connor. Except not, because so much of the last two seasons revolved around Connor. But I don't find it hard to believe that they all remember everything else. They just have a good reason to bury it. I've said this before; it's not about moving on, it's about getting on.
I liked wisteria_'s point here, that actually, mind-wiping Connor would have been enough. So why Angel decided it had to be all of them, and what exactly they do all have stored in their memories, becomes ever more intriguing.
Most people have said they see no sign of Fred and Gunn behaving like ex-lovers. Last week, in the one scene they had together, that was exactly what I saw. There was a lovely sense of tenderness, of fondness, of a shared something, but it was completely safe. And it's a safe-ness that could well come from a relationship that is concluded, and concluded comfortably. I almost included in last week's thoughts "we see the first chemistry between Fred and Gunn in their entire history," but as you know I am never flippant. Hee! ;)
Wesley's comment about Lilah, of course, can be interpreted two ways. Either he does remember his history with her - and I'm inclined to think he does, but some Connor-free version of it, however that might work - or it's just extraordinary irony, a flippant remark he makes, the significance of which is lost on him but devastatingly clear to us.
Getting back to Gunn, I warmed to GrownUp!Gunn this week. He had something of his old energy. And he was really hot, which helped muchly with the warming. ;)
I loved Spike this week. I loved Spike being utterly un-Spike-like in his report to Angel; that sense of him trying so hard to find a way to fit, to make a difference. Spike, so used to having Buffy monitor his every action - this, for instance, in Never Leave Me - "You’re alive because I saw you change. Because I saw your penance" - is desperately seeking acknowledgment. He doesn't need approval, necessarily, but he does need someone to stand there and say, "yeah, I saw you do that." Because for years Buffy was there doing exactly that - whether it was slamming him up against the wall of his crypt for some misdemeanour, or encouraging him with her belief in him and her acknowledgement of the good he'd done, or telling him he was underperforming (no! not that) and he needed to get his act together. So it's no wonder he notices Eve noticing him.
What else did I love about Spike? I loved the affection in his cry of "Gunn!" Also, did I mention that Denisof and Marsters are extraordinary together? They click - a little bit like JM and SMG, they know exactly how to feed off one another.
And I loved Spike fighting, and Spike in the elevator. Because there's the Spike we know and love - Spike punching through his friends to hit his enemies, and seeing through his enemies to hit his friends.
Which brings us to Eve. I admit, I like Eve. She has a quality to her that I think adds something to the ensemble, and throws a very interesting light on events so far. She seems so girlish, so half-hearted, almost, that it's just about impossible to believe she has a thread of steel running through her, let alone that she'd be the chosen representative of the core of evil behind this law firm. You know what? Maybe that's a clue. Maybe she'll turn out to be the fairy godmother after all.
Also, I like Angel and Eve together. It's a funny, forced relationship - two people that have no real interest in opening up to each other emotionally, and yet by virtue of their business relationship share a level of honesty that's all theirs. I'm a slut where Angel's concerned. I'll ship him with just about anybody that isn't Buffy - I liked Angel and Kate, loved Angel and Cordy, and as for Angel and Faith, or, hee, Angelus and Faith...sorry, where was I?
OK, I adored Angel having a go at Wesley. Oh, I love him when he's being the boss. So you all thought he was a little out of line, pushing the chauvinist thing a bit too much? Hee, not me. I watched, and wibbled at his manly anger. In my TV world there are no great feminist issues. I prefer to indulge conscience-free. On the whole.
And bless him, wisteria_ was so right here, he does nothing for himself sitting thus on the couch, nor, if it comes to it, sprawling on the roof. But I love him for exposing himself to these unflattering shots. The guy has balls. Well, that was obvious from the couch shot, but still, you know what I mean. Hee! Me, resist a cheap shot? Not in this life, my friends.
Something else I got that I've been looking out for all season was a little bit of Angel and Fred. Don't get me wrong, I'm not off on some delusional ship quest here. But I think, in a sense, Fred can fill a little part of the gaping hole Cordelia left. Angel needs someone he can care for, someone he can feel responsible for - but not in the all-consuming way he did for Connor. The way Angel talked about Fred in admonishing Wesley reminded me a lot of the "nobody touches Cordelia" attitude that he always had, way back, long before he fell in love with her. I think Fred recognises, too, the importance of what she can do for Angel. And it's Angel she rushes to up there on the roof, not Wes, not Wes who's standing there pointing a gun at his own father.
Which brings me back to where I started.
I never got Wes and Fred before. I do now. Oh, I do now.
It's not pretty, and you know what? It's not real. If you'll forgive a brief foray into my obsession with classic children's literature, I'm reminded of a chapter in Jo's Boy's, fourth book to Little Women. The chapter is called Aslauga's Knight, and is all about the sin-stained Dan, and his obsession with the lovely, virtuous Bess. And the whole point is that he doesn't want her, not as a real woman he can have a real relationship with, but as something perfect, and good, and beautiful he can focus on, something that lifts him beyond himself.
onetwomany has it exactly, here:
There's an innocence and vulnerability in Fred that Wes seems drawn to, even obsessed with. If he can be with her, protect her, win her love, then maybe he can preserve a part of himself that he fears he's losing (or has lost). Wes is looking to Fred to save him.
And saving Fred, for Wes, is not about Fred at all, but about himself. If only he could see that.
I love the double-edged Wes/Angel conversation at the end - "you know what’s the worst part about losing your free will?" "Having no control over your body?" "Well, there’s that, and I’m getting really nauseous."
It's kind of significant, given that Wesley's just thrown up over the edge of the roof after losing control of his body. Oh, that's what he'd like to believe.
Actually, it's a numbers game. He'll put his own life on the line while there's a chance of saving them both, of saving Angel and his father, but when Fred comes into the equation it doesn't add up any more - he can't save everyone, so it's a case of the three lives or the one. It's an easier decision than he'll ever let himself believe afterwards. Because that's Wes: even in desperation, there's a rational side to him, though he doesn't care to see it. Really, is it a crime of passion or a crime of necessity? Of necessity, Wes, though you'll try to call it passion. Because you're always the watcher, Wesley, always the father's son, and hell, the father is killing the son. Because somewhere inside the son feels himself becoming the father, and he doesn't want that, he wants to be something more, something better. Doesn't he say as much, up there on the roof?
Love isn't an excuse for doing crazy things, Wesley, don't you see that? Don't take this fixation with Fred, with what she represents, and call it love, and use it justify what you do, what you are.
Wes is such a bundle of contradictions. He has this crazy thing for Fred and calls it love, because love makes us crazy, right? And love is good, isn't it, so that's OK? He loved Lilah, and he called that a crazy thing. It came from somewhere dark, from something wrong. He was saved by something that was never pure, never innocent. And he needs it to be good, needs it to be good because it mattered to him, and he wants everything that matters to him to be good. But he won't let himself see that, ultimately, it was. Because he needs it to be good by virtue of something he does.
This is where the Wes/Lilah dynamic was extraordinary. Wesley has this overwhelming need to protect, to be the man. Fred won't stand for it. Little Fred, who'll go giggly and girly over her lab assistant, doesn't want him to protect her. But Lilah, strong, powerful Lilah, who watched her own back and only hers, Lilah let him. It's exactly because she was strong, because she had faith in herself, that she could let him. And so when the Beast comes to ravage W&H she'll let him play knight to her damsel in distress, because she understands. Understands him, understands her, knows what he needs from her and what she needs from him.
She lets him try to save her, and he can't. Not in the end. Not when he thinks he's finally set her free, burning up her contract in Home, only to discover it goes on forever.
So he has to put it right. Has to play it all over again. But this time he'll get it right, find something better, something purer, something worthier of saving.
Oh Wesley. Aslauga's knight should know better by now.
Do you know what breaks my heart, up there on the roof? Wesley doesn't question his father's sanity. Oh, he asks him why he's doing it, tries to talk him out of it, questions why he didn't turn to him instead. But there's not a moment where he wonders if his father is out of his mind. The bottom line is he believes his father to be capable of doing what he's doing. Maybe he wants to believe that, wants to feel something for his father that is real, and tangible, and potent. Wants his father to hate him because hate is nearer to love than anything he's known from his father.
Oh Wes. You're very pretty. You're also very deluded. Your issues aren't with your father. They're with you. And you don't want Fred, either. You want you. Because here's the thing - Angel fights for a cause. He fights for good because he can, and because he can, he believes he has to. Spike fights for fighting's sake, a lot of the time, and because he's attached to certain individuals and the world they live in. Wesley fights for a future self. And it's a notion, I think, that's bigger than the Shanshu prophecy, the promise of reward, of being human. He needs to be better. He doesn't have an ultimate aim, but he's driven, always, by this need to fashion himself into something more, something bigger, something that overwhelms all the darkness within him. And he hangs on to Fred, because in his mind she is his guiding light.
Because really, who is it Wesley shoots up there on the roof top? His father? No. Himself. He shoots, shoots and obliterates, the thing he is terrified of becoming.
He sees himself standing there, threatening to destroy the one good, beautiful thing he has to believe in. It's exactly what he saw Angel doing to Connor, for all he doesn't remember it. It's exactly what happened with Lilah. He allowed himself to love her, and he had to destroy her. It's exactly what he fears happening with Fred.
No wonder he lets her go at the end.
I know what I saw in the ending, because I've seen it before. This is Supersymmetry:
GUNN
If you kill him, I'm gonna lose you.
Gunn and Wesley both had Fred on a pedestal. They needed to believe she was good, she was infallible. Gunn couldn't let Fred do the one thing he knew would stop him believing in her, and so he did the one thing that stopped her believing in him. And Wesley does exactly the same, and he knows it.
Fred tries so hard to justify it, to hang on to a Wesley she believed in - "part of you knew" - but he knows he can't let her.
Poor Wes. It's the same old story as it was for Gunn, and as it was with him and Angel and Connor - he sacrifices what he believes to be his own father to keep from losing Fred. And in that, he loses her. Because who could be with a man who would kill his own father?
Wesley never can be with Fred, because he's afraid of corrupting this perfect ideal, afraid that he'll damn her rather than save her. And it suits him, I think, to give up his own interests for the sake of others. He's done it often enough. The question is, does he remember that?
Do they remember? Or do they stand by watching while their history re-plays itself, over and over, oblivious to the lessons they could have learnt from the past?
I can't wait to find out.
On an entirely different note, I'm so excited by this phone posting. Even if it’s confined only to my US friends - is it? Y'all have such lovely, elegant voices.
redrover1980's promise of a song has me envisioning all sorts of wonderful and quite ridiculous things. We'could have like, LJ Pop Idol, with everybody having to contribute a verse from a song of their choice. Or we could have weekly themes, like, big band week. And we could all vote by LJ poll!
Ehem. I'll be over here in the corner, then.